


Waiting for news

by deathorthetoypiano



Category: The Hour
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-02-04
Packaged: 2017-11-28 05:49:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/671002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathorthetoypiano/pseuds/deathorthetoypiano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set right after the end of series two. Lix takes Bel back inside and gives her some whiskey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting for news

Bel was dimly aware of a hand on her arm, drawing her gently onto her feet as the ambulance sped away. She whimpered softly, allowing herself to be taken back inside, only noticing as the lift doors closed who the hand belonged to. “Lix, is he going to–”

“I don’t know, darling,” Lix replied, leading the way to her office, never moving her hand from Bel’s arm, gently closing the door behind them. “Sit down,” she said gently. She had no idea of what else to say, only that it would be stupid to tell her that he would be alright. The sinking feeling in her stomach told her otherwise. There had been too much blood, his breathing too shallow, his broken body too floppy, that she daren’t hold out much hope. Instead, she poured two glasses of whisky – too much, really, but she didn’t know what else to do – and pressed one into Bel’s hand. She watched as Bel gulped it down, not flinching at the burn like she tended to, merely draining the glass and setting it on the coffee table, all the while staring at a point on the wall. Lix refilled it, but Bel left it untouched. Lix wondered if she had seen it, and found herself staring at the same point, until Bel’s hand slipped into hers, making her jump a little.

“I’m scared.” The voice was so small, so raw, so unlike Bel that it broke Lix’s heart. “I can’t lose him, not again. What if he’s dead, Lix? What do we do then?” 

Lix laced their fingers together, running her thumb soothingly across the back of Bel’s hand, wondering idly what hideous things were happening in the hospital. After a few minutes of particularly gruesome thoughts, she realised that Bel was probably thinking the same thing. She drained her glass and stood up, stepping into the corridor to turn off the light outside the door, and returned to see Bel stretched out on the sofa, her head cushioned on her arm and her feet tucked up close to her body. Lix smiled sadly, locked the door, and sat on the floor, leaning her back against the hard leather, staring now at the phone, willing it to ring, desperate for any kind of news. After a long while, she heard Bel shift behind her, and flinched slightly as a hand touched her hair, settling as Bel’s fingers began to thread gently through her curls, tugging lightly and rhythmically at the roots. She felt a familiar squirming in her belly, but fought it down, stifling it with the horror of what had happened to Freddie, of what Bel must be feeling. But if this was comforting Bel, if that was what she needed, then surely it would be –

“Lix.”

Lix turned a little, looking up into the bright blue eyes, which were much closer than she had expected. “What–”

“I can almost hear the cogs turning,” she chided softly. 

Lix pulled away, wondering how obvious her thoughts had been. Bel took her hand away and, for a moment, Lix worried that she had been too firm and spooked her, but she merely leant forward and reached for the whisky, then slid off the sofa and settled down in such a way that her body was pressed against Lix almost entirely from shoulder to ankle. “Just relax,” she said finally, curling her free hand back up into Lix’s hair. Lix tried to pretend not to notice her fingers running lower, sliding over the skin inside her collar, ghosting over her, exploring, teasing, asking a thousand questions. She flushed. Bel leant closer, pressing a kiss into the hollow beneath Lix’s ear, before resting her brow against her head, nose pushed into her hair. “Lix,” she whispered, “please. I thought you were supposed to be impulsive.”

“Not at the expense of someone I care about,” she replied, but her body betrayed her, as she turned her head until her nose, too, was pressed into Bel’s hair, their cheeks touching lightly, her legs pressing harder against Bel’s, her heart beating faster, her breathing growing shallower, eyes almost closed. She nearly stopped breathing altogether when Bel’s fingers tightened in her hair. It was like a promise.

“Are you out of excuses?” Bel asked softly. Lix shook her head, and tried again to tell herself that this was impossible, that it was the exact opposite of what Bel needed, that it could ruin everything, that their careers were more important than a night, even to soften the pain of horrors like these, even that, that Bel would regret it, that it was just a reaction to the shock, the sleepless night, the whisky, that goddamn whisky... but when Bel’s knuckle finally crooked beneath her jaw, Lix didn’t stop her.


End file.
